A Night Worth Remembering If you Could
by Eli
Summary: A late V-day story. Why drinking and holidays don't mix.


Title: A Night Worth Remembering..... If you Could  
  
Author: The lyrical Eli  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: For the V-day challenge..... Heh heh heh.  
  
Disclaimer: No, I should though.  
  
- February 14-  
  
Sunlight poured into Sara Pezzini's bedroom, shining light onto her sleeping form which was half hanging off the bed. The clock turned from 7:59 to 8:00 and started blaring. Sara woke up with a jolt and fell onto the floor with a huge BAM!! She winced as she tried to stand up, only to fall back down again. She growled and shut her eyes as she felt around for the alarm. It sounded like a foghorn was going off right in her ear! She kept slamming on her night stand, continually only meeting wood. "Damn it!" She muttered, trying to concentrate as a head ache pounded her head like she was a bongo. She was too irritated to notice that the witchblade was up and adam and had turned into the knuckles form.  
  
SMASH  
  


* * *

  
She had broken her nightstand in half, and to make matters worst, that damn alarm clock was still going off! She picked it up and threw it at the wall. There! That had shut it up! She stood up off the floor and covered her eyes from the bright beams that rivaled a searchlight. She turned and made her way toward her bathroom.  
  
She shut the door behind her and turned on the faucet. She washed her face and tried to remember what she had done the previous night that could have caused the massive migraine she had woken up with. 'I went to work, came home, watched TV, the phone rang and...' Her mind drew up blank after that. She lifted her hand up and checked her breath, coughing afterwards. 'Alcohol. A lot of it.' She thought to herself. She put her hands under the water and started to rinse her face... And connected with metal.  
  
She jumped back. She looked at her hands and growled. The stupid bracelet hadn't retracted yet! She glared down at it and witchy girl got the message. It went back into the shape of a perfectly harmless bracelet. Sara went back over to the sink and rinsed her face off. Next, she pulled out her toothbrush and tried to get rid of the stink in her mouth that rivaled the home of Oscar the Grouch.  
  
'What the hell did I do last night? Well, besides drinking....' She glanced at the witchblade. 'Would asking to see just a friggin' glimpse of what went on last night be too much for you?' She thought to it as she spit into the sink. Nothing. 'That's what I thought.' She rinsed out her mouth and the bracelet began to heat up.  
  
~Sara tilting her head back to take a shot/ Her laughing so hard she's on the floor laughing/ A needle/ Pressing the doorbell to Danny's house and running away like crazy/ Dancing on the table of a Starbucks as the manager pulls on her jacket/ Micky Mouse ears/ A sword battle with bread loaves at the bakery/ Someone who looked a lot like Vicki getting dragged away by cops as she screams out "I fucking love you Antonio Banderas!!"/ Someone lifting her up and flinging her over their shoulder~  
  
Sara gripped the edge of her sink, breathing hard. As soon as she was sure she wasn't going to have a hard attack, she remembered what she had just seen. She moaned and put her head against the mirror. "Damn it!!! Why the hell did I get myself so drunk?!" She asked herself outloud. She tried to think of a good reason she would have for getting drunk. 'Getting dumped, no, lost my job, no, hallmark holiday, no- YES!' She moved her head off of the cool glass.  
  
"Today is the most romantic day of the year, you're off, and you have to spend it nursing a hangover and trying to figure out just how many you have to apologize to, and you still have to go into work on Monday and have to listen to everyone talking about it." She told her reflection sarcastically. "Happy friggin' Valentines Day, sweetheart!"  
  
She sighed and turned on the shower, ready to get off all the grime that had accumulated through out the events of the previous evening. She stripped and stepped into her shower. She washed her hair out throughly, horrified to see something blue flowing out of her hair. She checked again and again to make sure her hair was still brown. She shook her head again. 'Well, maybe it could've been worst. Could've woken up at some bed and breakfast with the billionaire.' She thought to herself, trying to stop a mental image of it from entering her head. 'Yeah, I guess it could have been worst.'  
  
She finished with her hair and moved on to her body. Her head was out in space when she washed the spot over her chest and felt pain. She drew in some breath sharply. Damn, it was so sore!! She put down the soap on the ledge and went under the spray to wash away the soap.  
  
And then screamed bloody murder.  
  
Sara started hyperventilating as she blinked her eyes, hoping it was just an illusion. 'No, can't be, can't be!! Count to three, Sara! It's all just a dream. You're still in bed! Now it's time to wake up! One.... Two... THREE!!!'  
  
She was still in her shower, and it was still there. She looked around and picked up the bar of soap and started to frantically try to rub it off, hoping it would wash off and no one would ever know about it. She rubbed and rubbed until her breast ache. This sucker wasn't coming out. She shut off the water and grabbed a towel, wiping away at it like crazy. She pulled out the alcohol wipes in her cupboard and scrubbed till it was red and raw. She slunk against the wall, clothed only in a towel and sore.  
  
Anger started rising in her and she got up and stormed out of the bathroom. She flung the towel to the side, not caring that nothing was blocking a good look at her in her nuddy pants. She pulled on some clothes, ready to go over there to see if he had ANYTHING to do with her new tattoo. And if he did....  
  
Well, the witchblade would get a good work out today.  
  
Her migraine was almost completely gone, thanks to her pretty little bracelet. The only thing still lurking was sensitivity to the light, and all that damn sunlight was killing her. She went over to pull the curtains and her jaw dropped.  
  
The man she was mad at was on her fire escape, but considering his past, that was nothing new. It was the fact he was passed out against the cold metal, clad in nothing but Oh-my-God! Pink Cupid boxers and combat boots.  
  
It seemed like hours before Sara got her ability to think back. When she did, she gritted her teeth, opened the window and stuck her head out. "Hey Nottingham!!" She screamed at him.  
  
Ian woke up with a jolt. Ohh, was he freezing!! He sat up and looked around disoriented. He rubbed his eyes, wondering why they hurt so much. Then he looked at himself and wondered what he was doing in boxers that he didn't remember belonging to him, and only in the boxers, on Sara's fire escape, with Sara herself glaring at him. Was this some hellish nightmare from the witchblade?! "Get up and get in here before anyone else sees you!" She hissed at him.  
  
Nope, it seemed he was not that lucky.  
  
He got up and walked over to the window, all his usual grace and strength replaced with ungainly steps and whimpering from the cold New York weather. If his beard wasn't in the way, you'd be able to see him blushing. He made his way inside and shut the curtains, not able to take the bright lights any better than Sara. She tossed his clothes at him. They hit his chest and then fell on the floor. She turned her back on him as he groggily dressed himself. She wanted to stay mad at him, and staring at stalker boy's more than half naked form was about to render her speechless for another reason.  
  
She checked behind her and was satisfied to see him putting on his trench coat. She put her hands on her hips and cleared her throat. He slowly turned to look at her. "Sara, I'm sorry for everything, I-" She cut him off.  
  
"Save it! All I want to know is how the HELL did YOUR name end up tattooed to MY body!!" She yelled out coldly.  
  
He shook his head, not sure if he was hearing her quite right. "Beg your pardon?" He asked, confused.  
  
Sara glared at him as she pulled down the front of her shirt enough for him to see her new tattoo. Low and behold, in black ink, his name was spelled out over the upper part of her left breast. He shook his head and backed away in shock. This could not be happening to him!!! "I... I..I-I don't know how THAT got on you, but......." He didn't know what to tell her. He couldn't remember anything from last night. "I'm sorry." He mumbled out weakly.  
  
She was ready to bash someone's head into the wall. "Don't lie to me, Nottingham! Did you have anything to do with this?!" She screamed at him.  
  
His head pounded from all the yelling. He could only take so much! "No, I didn't!!" He yelled back at her.  
  
The wielder saw red. "Don't you yell at me! This isn't my fault!! And you're not the one with some psycho stalker freak's name tattooed onto you!"  
  
He got right up in her face. "And you were not left for the whole world to see clad in only a hideous pair of boxers, on St. Valentines Day no less! I can't remember anything that happened last night, and it is NOT my fault!"  
  
The two of them stood there, breathless and madder than hell, just glaring at each other. And then it all faded, and the anger in his eyes turned to pain right before her. Pain, anguish. Made her heart feel like ripping in two, and she forgot that she was angry at him for the name printed above the skin above it.  
  
He looked away and faced the window. She bit her lip and there was just silence. She mumbled for him to sit down and he listened. She sat next to him. More silence. 'Doesn't this feel awkward..' She thought to herself dryly.  
  
They both turned to each other at the same time. "I'm sorry." They both said. Sara half smiled and he did too. "Sooo, what did you have planned today? I was going to watch that Daria marathon...." She trailed off. He shrugged. "Nothing." He muttered. "Don't give me that, Nottingham. You were upset that today's Valentines day, so out with it. You have a hot date or something?"  
  
He didn't reply and shifted to turn away from her. He brushed against the witchblade, and she saw another flash of visions go by.  
  
~Ian looking through the pages of something titled 'Dating for Dummies'/ In a flower shop carefully examining a bouquet/ Writing out a note in a card/ In the mall passing shops, shaking his head at Victoria's secret/ Him smirking at a cop teddy bear that came with a motor cycle/ Leaning over glass looking at jewelry, carefully picking out something that was fuzzy and blocked out~  
  
She came back to herself. He was facing away from her, embarrassed. She looked over at him and bit her lip. "Were you... Was that stuff....?" She saw him nod slightly. He turned to face her and dug into his pocket and produced a box.  
  
"Here, I was planning on leaving it for you, but I might as well give it to you now." He told her. She took the box from his hand cautiously and opened it up. It was nothing she would have expected it to be. It wasn't over flowing with precious gems or glittering from so many karats of gold. It was silver, which she preferred anyway, and it was a Chinese symbol with her birthstone embedded in it. She picked it up and studied it.  
  
"It's.... Beautiful!" She exclaimed. "What does it mean?"  
  
"Purity."  
  
She raised her eyebrow. "Purity? She asked, clearly confused.  
  
He glanced at her. She was expecting an answer. He looked her straight in the eye. "So many people sell their soul and their worth into this world. They don't stand up for what they believe is right, much less stand up for others. I have seen so much of this, around me and in myself. You are a relief. You are the most honest, most virtuous person I have ever met, and you give hope that the world is not as... Dark... as it seems."  
  
He managed to get it out without stuttering, though he needed to stop to think. He also had been able to keep her eyes with his. And now he was waiting for her to turn away disgusted, yell at him for his 'gift', or worst, laugh at his effort. He looked away, preparing himself for whatever she had coming his way.  
  
Instead, there were no harsh words, no laughing. He had turned away too fast to see tears coming to her eyes. She was touched! Sara came forward, at first unsure what to do, but before she knew it, she had kissed his cheek. "Thank you." She said quietly.  
  
He looked at her incredulously as he tried to get whatever had climbed into his throat and died to disappear long enough for him to say something... Anything!  
  
"Your welcome." He replied. She was close... Very close... And.... "May I please use your restroom?" Sara nodded and he moved away before anything else came up and she would be mad at him once again. The bathroom door closed behind him and he breathed out in relief. He touched his cheek, still tingling from where her lips were, and smiled.  
  
Sara started fixing her bed, trying to keep herself occupied. She thought about the thing on her chest and groaned inwardly. "So what are we gonna do about this tattoo?" She called out. No answer. She went over and knocked on the door. "Ian?"  
  
She heard a moan followed by something tumbling over. "Hey you okay in there?" She asked worriedly.  
  
"Yes," He answered, his voice higher than usual. "But Sara?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You're not the only one who got a tattoo last night."  
  
The End 


End file.
